Sherly Holmes
by 13lue13erry
Summary: An experiment goes horribly wrong and the Consulting Detective becomes a girl! How will John react? Fem!Lock Johnlock! (I know Sherly isn't the right way to write Shirley, I just felt it fits better for Sherlock) Please read and review!
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first Fem!Lock fanfiction, and I am very excited! Please, please, please review!**

** Of course everything in here is complete bunk ( if you can't notice). It sounds really cheesy and fake, but after the part where I attempt to understand biology, it will become a romantic comedy (well I'll try to make it funny. I'll most likely fail.) Sorry if Sherlock seems OOC. I don't own Sherlock. I'm going to use my standard disclaimer saying which is:**

** Standard Disclaimerlin**

** Chapter 1**

A loud bang accompanied an explosion and a bout of smoke. Sherlock waved his hand in front of his face, trying to clear enough of the toxic stuff to breathe. His lungs burned when he breathed in, he choked on the noxious fumes, and covered his mouth and nose with his fore arm. He quickly made his escape of his and John's kitchen deeming it unsafe to stay there any longer.

Thankfully, Mrs. Hudson was out with her Sunday bingo group until ten and John was at the pub with Lestrade getting back god knows when. He wouldn't want to deal with their bothersome complaints about how their health was endangered because of his experiments. _Well John was in for a treat_, Sherlock thought with a smirk. He had been trying to find a concoction that would change one's gender. And guess who was Sherlock's lab rat? Honest, kind, and most importantly, unsuspecting John Watson.

Of course Sherlock would knock him out, no doubt the process would be excruciatingly painful. John would never know! His plan was the picture of perfection. The smoke had cleared and Sherlock went to inspect the fruits of his labor. A petri dish was settled in the microwave carried a steaming, sparkling, pink liquid, reminding the detective of Pepto- Bismol. A devious smile found its way onto Sherlock's face. _Perfect, the x chromosomes will root into John's deoxyribonucleic acid and completely replace all of his y chromosomes. I will make sure to take a large tissue sample before the experiment takes place. Once the RNA begins to copy the fabricated XX DNA, John's body will slowly change. Process estimated to take a course of one week before completion. I will administer doses of Azathioprine to keep his body from rejecting the uh- alteration. _ Sherlock began to ring his hands like one of those villains in the super hero movies._ OH YES! _Sherlock jumped into the air, _This will be perfect._

Sherlock wasn't sure of all the affects. The matter of sexual organs did pose a question. Would John change fully into a female? Or will he simply be more feminine? Will his hair growth quicken? Will his lips grow? Will they deepen in colour?

Sherlock couldn't wait for his flat mate to come home.

Two hours later…

John stumbled up the stairs to his and Sherlock's flat. It was just nine o' clock and he was wasted. Lestrade and he hand one too many beers at the pub watching a football game. John didn't even really like football all that much; he just wanted to get away from Sherlock's constant wining about being bored.

"Sherlock, I'm home," he slurred as he passed by the door to the main part of their flat. He continued up the stairs to his room.

"Oh John! I was wondering when you would come home,"

John squinted down the staircase to where the voice was coming from. "You're not Sh'lock," he stated, "Who 're you?"

"What are you talking about John? How drunk are you? Please tell me you didn't consume too much alcohol. My partner can't be hung over if we have a case. I need you to be in perfect working order,"

It sure sounded like something Sherlock would say. Seeming to care for one second and then have an ulterior motive. Was John so drunk he thought that Sherlock's voice was feminine? Now that he really looked, it didn't look like Sherlock… this figure seemed to be curvier. He couldn't really see the face because it was in shadow, but the mystery person had medium length, curly black hair.

"But?" John said. He then chose that moment to pass out right on the stairs.

"John? John-," Sherlock huffed, "Of course you had to pass out HALF WAY up the stairs. Nooo you couldn't black out at the top so it would be easy to drag you to bed. Why am I even talking out loud," Sherlock grabbed John's arms and pulled them above his head. John's head lolled from side to side and Sherlock winced in apology every time John's head thumped on a stair. It took Sherlock a while- _since when was John so heavy?_- to get John to his room. Getting him in his bed was even harder. Sherlock tried all he could but he just couldn't manage to lift John up all the way. Losing his patience, Sherlock left John to lay face down on the rug next to his bed. The consulting detective sank down to the ground next to him, exerted from the effort.

"Don't choke on your own vomit idiot,"

Sherlock received no response.

He rolled his eyes and went to John's bathroom. The cold water hit the basin and was so inviting that Sherlock spashed some on his face. He sighed and looked into the mirror.

And he screamed.

Like a little girl.

Because he was a girl, or rather _she_ was a girl.

Sherlock warily cast his gaze at his sleeping flat mate. How was he going to explain this?

_THINK SHERLOCK! THINK! HOW DID THIS HAPPEN! WHAT? WHEN? WHY? HOW?_

He lost his train of thought when he took a chance at looking in the mirror again.

_ I'M A WOMAN! I'M A WOMAN! _ The raven- haired detective rushed to the toilet just as the first round of vomit started to come. _I'M A WOMAN. I'm a… I'm a woman. OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD. _She started to hyperventilate and hold on to the toilet ring with an iron grip. Stomach acid ran up her throat demanding escape. All of the food left her and she started to dry heave. Tears sprung to Sherlock Holmes's eyes for the first time in years. It seemed to be a night all about 'firsts'.

Curling her knees up to her chest, Sherlock formed the fetal position. She rocked back and forth, trying to calm herself down. Her sobs shook her whole body. She banged the back of her head against the wall. _WhatamIgoingtodo? WhatamIgoingtodo?_

Her heart thudded against her rib cage. Tears ran down her face and landed on her purple dress shirt which was now even tighter with the addition of… things. _Crying never solved anything, Sherlock. Get a hold of yourself. You're a Holmes. We strive for greatness. Never let me catch you crying again. It's pathetic. _Sherlock was just eight years old when his mother warned him. Some of the middle schoolers taunted him and called him a freak. It escalated to kicking and eventually Sherlock curled up in a ball and just took it. When he came home crying and covered in bruises the next time, he suffered the pain alone.

She dabbed her eyes with toilet paper and blew her nose. A shuddery breath left her body as she rose from the floor of John's bathroom. She went to stand in front of the mirror once more, ready. She brought a shaking hand up to her lips. They were fuller and rosier. Softer too. Next was her hair, still black as night but longer now, and if it was even possible, it was more luscious. She ran a hand though the silky, shoulder length mane.

The buttons on her shirt strained against her chest. _I guess I'll have to buy some bras soon._ It was definitely looser around the waist. She wiped a hand over her face. _How the hell am I going to fix this? _

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	2. Chapter 2

**I'm back!**

**This chapter is super durper fluffy : ) Enjoy.**

**Standard Disclaimerlin**

**Chapter 2**

John cracked open his eyes and groaned as late morning light assaulted him from his window. His whole body ached. _Am I on the ground?! _The coarse fibers of the rug bit into his cheek, leaving an imprint. He dared not move in fear of his hurting, well hurting _everything._ "SHERLOCK! NOT EVEN A PILLOW?!" he roared, wincing when the loudness of his voice worsened his head ache.

"What?!" A beautiful woman sat against his wall, snapping her sleeping eyes open; alert. Her voice was sharp like a blade but as sweet as honey.

"Sher-Sherlock? What in the hell?" John was baffled by the woman, could this stunning girl be his flat mate? "This _is_ something you would get yourself into,"

"John let me explain," now established Sherlock said.

"By all means go head," John urged with a sarcastic laugh.

"I sort of found a way to make males into females. You were out, I was bored, and I had nothing to do, so I experimented… a bit. Well not a bit, I made a huge scientific breakthrough. You see, you strip the Y part of the DNA from the chromosomes," Sherlock said trying to make it simple for her friend," You then replace the empty hole with X DNA to completely change the biology of the subject. I didn't even know the process started on me until you came home and acted so strange. The effect of the drug as you can observe turned me into a woman. I was going to test it on you… but I guess now I won't have to," Sherlock illustrated.

"Wait a second… YOU WERE GOING TO TEST IT ON ME? YOU WERE GOING TO MAKE ME INTO A WOMAN? I'M NOT YOUR LAB RAT!" boomed the blogger, his face growing red with fury.

Sherlock shrinked back, afraid that John might hit her in his rage. She scooted away to a safe distance a few feet away, seeing as John was still sprawled out in the floor, glaring daggers at her with one eye open. He realized that she was scared of him, "Sherlock I would never harm you… well I take that back… I'm not going to harm you right _now,"_ he assured her.

"John I'm really very frightened by what happened. I mean look at me! I'm a woman! I have no idea what I'm going to do, "She gestured to her chest, "I have these things now and it's _all _different and I don't know how long it will last and I don't want people to see me like this and what if Anderson or Donovan see me and- and" she covered her face with her hands, broke down, and started cry. John sat up and pulled her into his lap, stroked her hair with one hand, and held her close with the other. He was stunned that she would let her guard down; Sherlock Holmes had many protective layers and no one has seen through them. His mood immediately changed when his flat mate's tears fell. He couldn't relate to what she was going through, but he knew it must have been difficult for the male-turned-female to have is masculinity striped from him. Although her wails slammed on his head like a sledge hammer, he had to be there for his friend. "Sherlock it will be alright," John said in a soothing voice, "We'll get this all worked out don't worry," The detective gripped John's shirt tightly in her fists, and openly sobbed into the crook his shoulder.

"I hate this! I hate all of this! My body is getting used to the new hormones and I keep crying and I- I," She broke off when the tears made her words jumble together. She said something like, "Idoknowwha'Mgondo!" John held her tighter. "Calm down, calm down," he whispered in her ear. He started to rock back and forth succeeding at hushing her cries.

"I'll make you a nice, warm cuppa," John said slowly, "Does that sound nice?" Sherlock nodded her head and sniffed.

"Do you want to go downstairs to the couch?" Another nod yes. Another sniff.

"Could you kindly move off of me so I can get that cup of tea?" She shook her head no and wrapped her hands around John's neck. He jerked back; surprised by the reaction. "Alright Sherlock, just this once, I'll carry you down," he cautiously stood up, getting used to the weight that was now hanging off his front. He nearly tipped over and Sherlock instinctively curled her legs around blogger. Balance regained by a hand on his nearby bed insured their safety. The woman was light as John expected; probably 120? Sherlock wasn't heavy as a man, and she weighed even less now that chunks were taken away for the curves on her sides. Hesitantly, he secured his hands around her waist and Sherlock nuzzled deeper into his shoulder, accepting his action.

"Hey John?" she mumbled into the fabric of pajamas.

"Yes Sherlock?"

"Thank you,"

A smile spread across John's visage, for he knew Sherlock couldn't see it from the angle that she faced. He knew what was happening and he knew for a while. In the pit of his stomach, a flock of butterflies stirred, not for the first time.

John was falling for Sherlock, and he was falling hard.

**PLEASE REVIEW! I really enjoy writing this story, and I hope that you, dear reader, enjoy it too.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I'm back. Did you miss me? I know nothing about IMMUNOSUPPRESSIVE's so bare with me yeah? If you know anything about Azathioprine please help me out by PM'ing me with corrections.**

**Standard Disclaimerlin**

**Chapter 3**

Sherlock was snuggled into the couch with the throw. Her face was wan, and she didn't say a word. She closed her eyes and focused on the noise of John making the tea. His predicted movements: get the kettle, fill the kettle, place it on the burner. Turn it on. While it boils get the tea bags, cups, and sugar. Wait and lean against the kitchen counter and look adorable. Take the kettle off, pour liquid in cups, plop in tea bags, stir in sugar. There were exactly fifteen-John-steps that he would have to take to make it to the couch from where he was standing. Sherlock counted them down.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

"There you go, Sherlock. A nice, warm cup of tea," he nestled it into the crook of her elbow because she didn't respond when he held it out to her.

"Don't call me that," she said abruptly. Her blue-green eyes snapped open.

"What? Sherlock?" he kneeled down before the couch concerned, and he rested his tea on the coffee table.

"Yeah. It's not a _girl's_ name,"

"But Sher- but you're not a girl,"

"Have you seen the state of me? I am one hundred percent woman. Don't you _dare_ sugar coat it,"

"Well what should I call you?"

"Hmm," she tapped her chin with her free hand, the other occupied by tea, "Charlene?"

"No, doesn't suit you,"

"How could you possibly think a name could fit specifically to a person?" she said like John was an idiot.

"Well haven't you walked down a street and seen someone and thought' 'Hmph, well that guy looks like a Gary" or "She looks like a Tammy,"

"That's preposterous. How could you be so stupid? That makes no sense at all," she said, lashing out.

"Do you want my help or not?"

"Ugh, fine. Let's brainstorm,"

"Charlotte?" John proposed.

"Shelia?" Sherlock offered.

"No. Maybe Sheryl?

"Nah, how about Sally. Eww no never mind," she wrinkled her nose at the thought of Sgt. Donovan. John had to smile it was so cute. Sherlock blushed and looked down bashfully.

"Shirley!" they said at the same time. 'Shirley' grinned and daringly took John's hand.

Shirley- _I hope he doesn't pull away. _

John- _Wha-! Hand receptors reporting contact! CAN-NOT-COMPUTE. ABORT ABORT. _

_She's-She's holding my hand! She's holding my hand!_

_ Get a hold of yourself Watson, you're not in the fifth grade. _

_But she's HOLDING MY hand!_

_Well this is new._

"I have a name," she said quietly.

"You have a name," he agreed.

"I have a name!" she repeated louder and added," Woo hoo!"

"Yes, you do. Are you happy with the choice?" she nodded and gripped his hand harder.

Shirley- _I hope he doesn't mind. He's probably only holding it still because I'm in such a fragile state. I still can't think straight, no deductions for a while then. Stupid hormones. Why did this have to happen to me? He seems to like holding my hand. I like holding his hand. I've only held Mycroft's hand besides his, and that was when I was little had he would lead me across the street._

_I do hope he doesn't pull away. _

John- _I do hope she doesn't pull away._

"Now the spelling," John reminded her.

"S-H-I-R-L-E-Y,"

"No, no, it has to have some part of the old you in it. How about S-H-E-R-L-Y?"

"Good enough for me. I don't plan on being like this for long," now named Sherly told him.

"I'd hate to say it but we don't know how long it will last,"

"Well as soon as I figure out how to reverse it I guess. I want to run some tests though, I don't _really_ mind being like this. At least for a little while. Imagine what this could do for science. It could be THE breakthrough of the _century," _

"Do you know how to reverse it?"

"I'm not going to worry about that right now. Right now, I want to get used to this new body. OH CRAP!"

"WHAT? WHAT? WHAT IS IT?"

"I FORGOT THE MEDICINE TO MAKE MY BODY ACCEPT THIS CHANGE!" she shot up and nearly dumped her tea all over John, but he caught her cup before it had the chance. Both ran to the kitchen. John braced himself on the table, "WHAT DO YOU NEED? Mycophenolate Mofetil? Mycophenolate Sodium? Azathioprine?! Tacrolimus? Cyclosporine?"

"I have the Azathioprine right here. It will be okay, I think," She swung open the door to the fridge and found the drawer labeled "SHERLOCK EXPERIMENTS" the tiny bottle of the medicine was crammed in with various other scientific and medical things. She took a syringe and filled it with the life- saving liquid. Sherly plunged it into her arm, wincing at the sting of the needle.

Both sighed in relief. "How much per day do you think you'll need?"

"No idea,"

"Well that's comforting,"

"Tell me about it, I'm the one who could die!"

John walked around the table to Sherly and wrapped his arms around her.

"Nonono, don't you dare say that. Don't you dare to EVER say that,"

"We all die someday, John. It's not a matter of when it's a matter of how. Old age. Cancer. Ha, stupid science experiments. I wouldn't be the first to have my work turn against me,"

"Well let's make sure that doesn't happen shall we?"

Sherly grunted in agreement and hugged John back.

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	4. Chapter 4

** Hello again. I don't live in London, so don't hate me if the info about the stores is wrong. Sherlock might seem out of character and oblivious to how John feels, but then again, she is spectacularly ignorant about some things. **

** Standard Disclaimerlin.**

**Chapter 4**

Sherly flopped around on the couch. She was wearing white cotton pajamas and her blue silk dressing gown that was a bit too long now. She huffed and puffed, and flopped around some more. It was two days after the 'incident'. She spent that time running tests and getting used to the new body. It still felt odd and squishy, but she would get over that eventually.

"John,"

"Yes Sherlo- Sherly," John sat in his armchair, reading a newspaper. He was not yet used to the change in his flat mate's physique. He tried to act as normal as possible, or well as normal as you can when your best friend under goes a major gender change.

"I'm boooooored," she complained, causing John to look up from his paper.

"Oh really?" John rolled his eyes and returned to his reading.

"Don't ignore me John," she stared straight into the eyes of the blogger, or rather she would have if he wasn't so absorbed in the editorials.

"I'm not ignoring you; I'm choosing not to respond," he said, licking his thumb and flicking to the next page.

"That's basically the definition of the word," she said, flopping around some more.

" 'Suppose it is,"

"I'll do anything John, anything to not be bored," she stressed. This peeked John's interest.

"Really?" he quirked up an eyebrow.

"Yes,"

"One hundred percent sure," he dared her with his eyes.

"Of course!" she exclaimed while she threw her hands in the air.

"Then let's go to the shops,"

Sherly snorted, "The shops. Really. That's your idea of not being bored,"

"You have any better ideas? Why don't you do an experiment or something?"

"Do you notice how the last one ended up?" she hissed through her gritted teeth.

"Mmm sorry, that was a tad insensitive," he said mockingly.

Sherly scoffed, "A tad?"

"You were never so upset by things before the 'incident',"

"Yeah well, I'm a girl now so I have every right to be upset by things," she snapped, "My hormones are different and I feel moody sometimes, and other times I'm overjoyed just by looking out the window and seeing a bird. I can't wait to be done getting used to these chemical differences,"

"On the topic of you being a girl, we need to buy you some clothes," John said trying to avoid an argument.

"I have clothes,"

"Do you have… undergarments?"

"Why do you say 'undergarments'? You've been with plenty of women to not be embarrassed by the subject of brassieres and… what's a good word? Ahem, panties. I'm sure you know more about them than I do. Why don't you buy me some while I stay here?"

"I don't know your size,"

"Ugh fine. Where will we go anyway?" she said giving in, because she really did need some.

"I was thinking Primark,"

"No, if I'm buying clothes it has to be from Harrods,"

"It's expensive! I could never afford to go there,"

"So?"

"You don't have enough money,"

"Please John; don't you think people pay me to solve cases?"

"Yeah but-"

"You seem to forget that I had a life before you. I have plenty of money to live pleasantly for quite a while. Now," She clapped her hands together," Are we going to Harrods or not?"

"I guess we are,"

"Good. Go get changed,"

"What will you wear?"

"What I'm wearing now,"

"Sherly you can't go out in that. It's too tight and you have no bra on. I will not allow you,"

"I hardly think that I'm attractive, people won't be looking,"

"Seriously Sherly? Have you looked in a mirror? You're a knock-out!" John blushed, "I mean, I can see that if I were interested in you know, you, I would find you pretty and stuff…" he stammered.

"You don't find me to be pleasing?"

"I never said that…"

Sherly just frowned and turned over on the couch so John couldn't see her.

"Go get ready John," she said harshly.

"I'm sorry-"

"Go get ready,"

John cleared his throat and got up from his chair, "Okay, I think that would be best. I'll get you one of my jumpers. I won't have people ogling at you Sherly, because I care about you and you're my best friend,"

Sherly sniffed, "Alright. I'll wear one of your stupid jumpers,"

John- _Oh God is she crying? I didn't mean to make her cry._

"And I know you might not want to hear it, cause you might be mad at me but I think you're beautiful," John quickly exited the room and ascended the stairs, leaving Sherly alone to process what John just said.

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